Of Redeeming Grace
by BrainySmurf6
Summary: Christmas fic, season seven.  "Booth make sure this Christmas was a great one.  A Christmas that would make Brennan love it again. He owed her that much."  Angst and romance and Christmas.
1. Last Christmas

_A/N: Hey guys! I just finished up a semester, which is always crazy with finals and final scripts and final papers and final films and other things of finality. Hence the lack of updates on Truth. Working on the next one now, but for the next week, it's all about my Christmas fic. I couldn't go a year without one, so here we are._

_This takes place in the current season. It's going to be about four chapters, I think, updated between now and Christmas (in other words, frequently). A lot of this is total wish fulfillment…if we were having a normally scheduled season, and if we had a Christmas episode, this is basically my dream scenario. I also picked up a Secret Santa prompt on LJ, and developed this as a Secret Santa for Jenn, aka RositaLG on here. I won't give away her prompts here, but it's her first choice wish list. _

_So…here we go. This chapter's sort of introductory, almost a prologue…the next few will be longer._

_Of Redeeming Grace_

_Chapter One: Last Christmas_

_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart..._

"Where are we going, Booth?"

He glanced over at her, shooting Brennan the same gleeful smile he'd been wearing since he whisked her out of the lab twenty minutes before. "It's a surprise."

Brennan sighed audibly, which only made Booth's grin widen. He cut his eyes at her. "Hey, Bones?"

"Yes?"

"I ever tell you I like it when you wear hats?"

Brennan tugged slightly on her gray fleece cap, trying and failing to suppress a smile and give Booth an annoyed look. "No, you haven't."

"Well, I should've." He caught her eye and smiled. Then, his eyes slid back to the road and lit up. "We're here!"

Brennan glanced forward and frowned slightly as the car pulled into a Christmas tree lot. Soon, Booth had parked and was dashing around the front of the car to meet Brennan on her side, needlessly trying to help her get out.

"_Booth_, I'm fine, I can _walk_…and why are we here? Don't you and Parker pick out a tree before your decorating ritual this weekend?"

As they started up the slight incline toward the tree lot, Booth tucked his hand in the crook of Brennan's arm, leading the way. Brennan curled her arm, removing his hand by entwining their fingers together instead. She'd found that was the best way to curtail Booth's habit of guiding her.

He complied easily, squeezing her hand. "It's a _tradition_, Bones. Ritual sounds like a cult or something."

"You realize those are synonyms."

Booth shook his head dismissively, ignoring the nuance. "We'll wait for Parker to pick out one of the trees. But we need one for your apartment, too."

Abruptly, Brennan stopped walking, turning to face Booth with a puzzled expression. "No, we don't."

"Sure, we do," Booth replied lightly. "According to our d_eal_…" An eye roll punctuated the word. "…we split time between the apartments. So we'll be at your place just as much as mine around Christmas."

Before he even finished speaking, Brennan was shaking her head, turning back toward the car. "I don't _want _a tree."

Bewildered, Booth's brow furrowed and he touched Brennan's arm, stopping her. "What? Why not?"

Brennan's eyes skirted downward. "It's wasteful to have two trees, Booth."

"So do you…do you want to just spend the holidays at my place?" Booth asked, unable to conceal the slightly hopeful note in his voice. Going back and forth was becoming tedious.

"No, of course not." Brennan's gaze flew up and found his. "We agreed, we keep splitting time until we find a house."

"Okay…then we need two trees." Booth put a hand on her shoulder, playfully trying to steer Brennan toward the Christmas tree lot. "Your place is probably better for the Christmas dinner anyway…"

"What Christmas dinner?"

"You know…Christmas dinner. Food, family, friends." Booth shot her a winning smile, if slightly impatient.

Brennan shook her head, her face twisting in distaste. "Booth…I don't want a tree. I don't want a Christmas dinner."

Genuine confusion shot through Booth as Brennan started walking swiftly toward the car again. He turned and kept pace. "Bones, c'mon, what's going on with you? You _hosted_ Christmas dinner last time."

Brennan froze, her eyes hardening for the briefest moment. "Minor correction, but that was _three _years ago. The Christmas after that, you were in Afghanistan and I was in Maluku, and last year you…" Brennan's voice faltered. She looked away.

Immediately, Booth's chest tightened with the weight of everything Brennan wasn't saying.

Last Christmas, he'd been with Hannah.

He didn't know what Bones had done. Or any of the rest of their team, for that matter. He hoped they'd been together, or that she'd been with her dad, and her brother, but honestly…Booth had no idea.

They hadn't exchanged gifts. Hadn't seen even seen each other the week of the holiday.

Booth drew a shallow breath, an old, deep rooted shame burning in his gut. Apologies welled up inside him, longing for the surface, but Booth couldn't quite get them out.

They never talked about it. About Hannah, about Brennan's confession in his car, about the proposal…about how distant he'd been last year, about how coldly he'd tried to push her away.

Booth had long ago gained enough clarity to feel nothing but shame for the way he'd acted when they returned from the opposite end of the world. But Brennan had never once seemed to hold it against him, and her silence had allowed Booth his own.

Silence hung tight between them for several long moments, then Brennan shook her head a little, dismissive. "Booth…you _know_ I don't typically…_enjoy_ Christmas. Not like you do."

Booth frowned, memories of their first Christmas together rushing forward, a Christmas lung fungus and Brennan, the only one of them with no family to visit. "I…I guess I thought that had changed." More welcome memories surged forward, wintergreen gum and mistletoe, Christmas trees outside of trailers, and holiday dinners that felt warm with family and hope.

Brennan held his eyes, her expression strained. "I just…I didn't enjoy the last few Christmases, Booth. Just like before."

Booth's stomach clenched, guilt gnawing at his insides.

Wordlessly, he slipped his hand into Brennan's, and the two of them began walking again, away from the tree lot.

Finally, as they reached the car, Booth stopped Brennan, his voice gentle, "You don't have to get a tree." He hesitated, then added, "You don't mind if I do…?"

Brennan shook her head. "I know your Christmas rituals are important to you and Parker."

Booth held her eyes, half smiling. He reached out and put a hand on the curve of Brennan's stomach. "They are. And when our daughter comes along…I want her to have those _traditions, _too. With both of us. _Every_ year…I always hated the Christmases I didn't have Parker on Christmas Eve, when I couldn't do the whole Santa thing with him."

Brennan was smiling softly in spite of herself, and she rested her hand over top of Booth's, conciliatory. Still, at his last sentence, she met his eyes and countered matter-of-factly, "I've told you, Booth. I don't support the perpetuating of the Santa myth…I don't believe in lying to children. Especially my own."

Booth sighed, tilting his head at her. "Bones, you're not seriously going to deprive our daughter of _Santa_ _Clause_, are you?

The briefest flash of hurt flickered in Brennan's eyes. In the next second, she set her jaw, stubborn. "It's a lie, Booth. To extort good behavior."

Rolling his eyes a little, Booth kissed Brennan on the forehead. "We'll table that one for now. But listen…when Parks comes over this weekend, I know he really wants you to help decorate and everything." Booth smiled, hopeful. "It'd mean a lot to him. And me."

"Sure, yes, that would be fine," Brennan agreed after only the slightest hesitation.

"Good." Booth squeezed Brennan's hand gently and opened the door for her.

As he smiled at her through the window before going around to his own side, Booth made a silent promise to himself.

He'd make sure this Christmas was a great one. A Christmas that would make Brennan love it again.

He owed her that much.


	2. River

A/N: Hiya, gang! This took a little longer to get posted than expected...my computer came down with a virus (as it is apt to do, being a crappy school bought laptop) the second I got home for break, away from free IT support and loaner computers. It's fixed now, so all is well. Anyway, here's chapter two. Definitely let me know what you think! Song lyrics and title come from "River", my favorite angsty Christmas song ever...I have so many versions I don't even know which to recommend. You won't go wrong with Joni Mitchell (the original), Sara Bareilles (my favorite) or Sarah McLachlan (probably the most well known cover). Enjoy!

Chapter Two

_It's coming on Christmas, they're cutting down trees_  
><em>They're putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy and peace<em>  
><em>Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on<em>

"Tell me about a good Christmas."

Booth's voice was soft, an attempt not to wake up Parker, who'd fallen asleep in the backseat of the car.

It was December 23, and as part of his campaign to jumpstart Brennan's Christmas spirit, Booth had driven her and Parker nearly an hour out of DC to drive through a neighborhood famous for its Christmas lights. The line of cars weaving through the streets had been long and slow, but Brennan's sighs and occasional protests had ceased the second the lights came into view.

Booth had watched her more than he'd watched the lights, her eyes glowing, just as entranced as Parker.

Now, Brennan looked over at him and smiled. She knew what Booth had been doing for the past few weeks. He'd made sure she participated in every aspect of his decorating day with Parker. He'd baked Christmas cookies and let her gorge herself without even protesting about a healthier option for the baby. He'd brought her along on all his Christmas shopping for Parker…and then everyone else.

Glancing at her expectantly, Booth reached across the console with the hand not on the steering wheel and gently slid his fingers around Brennan's, prompting again, "A good Christmas?"

Brennan smiled a little, expression far away. "It snowed once, when I was seven…my dad woke us up early to show us prints in the snow..he claimed they were from Santa and the reindeer. They were in the front yard…if he'd wanted to be accurate, he would have made them on the roof, but that didn't occur to me at the time."

"He probably knew it wouldn't."

"After we opened presents we went outside and played in the snow all day, even my Mom and Dad." Brennan's lips curled a little, triumphant. "Mom and I beat Dad and Russ in a snowball fight."

"Nice." Booth grinned at her, grateful for every story he earned from her, every memory.

Silence hovered for a moment, a soft smile on Brennan's face as she relived that day. After a moment, Booth squeezed her hand, gently. "How about another one?"

Brennan thought for a moment, then said almost shyly, "The Christmas we spent at the prison. I know I was reluctant to go at the time, but…I'd never thought I'd have another Christmas with Dad and Russ." When she spoke again, Booth didn't have to take his eyes off the road to look at her; he could hear the smile in her voice. "And then you and Parker brought the Christmas tree outside the prison…"

"I remember that," a groggy voice murmured from the backseat.

Booth met his son's glazed eyes in the rearview mirror. "Hey, bud, thought we'd lost you back there."

"No, I was just resting," Parker insisted. He leaned forward slightly, looking at Brennan. "I remember bringing that tree, Bones. We hooked it up to the car so it would light up and everything." The boy grinned. "It was cool, wasn't it, Bones?"

"It really was, Parker," Brennan answered warmly. "It was really nice of you and your dad to bring it."

"Dad said it was your present," he answered. After a moment, though, he frowned. "How come you were having Christmas at a jail, Bones?"

Without hesitating, Brennan told him, "My father and brother were in prison over that Christmas, so we didn't have a choice."

Parker's brown eyes went wide. "Max was in _jail_? What for?"

"Well, he killed the deputy director of the-"

"He was innocent, Parks," Booth interrupted her swiftly. "That's why he's not in jail, anymore…they just made him stay in there until the trial."

Brennan was staring at Booth, her expression troubled. "Booth…"

He cut his eyes at her, warning. "That's all it was, buddy. They got the wrong guy."

"Oh. Okay." Satisfied with that, Parker sat back in his seat, and after a few quiet moments, he tucked his iPod's headphones into his ear.

"You shouldn't have lied to him," Brennan told Booth in a low voice as soon as the muffled sound of Parker's music began.

Booth sighed. "Bones, come on, you can't tell a kid that." He glanced over at her. "You going to tell our daughter her grandfather's a murderer?"

"If she asks."

Booth smiled a little, knowingly. "You'll change your mind, Bones. You'll see why it's better to protect kids."

Brennan pressed her lips together, not answering.

Booth glanced over after a moment, but Brennan was staring out the window, away from him. Drawing her out of her silence, he asked, "How about the year everyone had Christmas at your place, Bones? Was that a good Christmas?"

"It was," she admitted, looking over at him again. "It was nice having a big, crowded dinner. When I was a kid, even, we didn't do that…my parents had told us we didn't have any relatives, so there was no other family."

"See?" Booth said gently. "You have good Christmases. They're good because…you get to spend them with all the people who care about you. It's about family, you know?"

Brennan met his eyes, and Booth could see her softening.

"I…I know the last few holidays haven't been great," Booth added hesitantly. He swallowed, having to force every word. "Last year we were all kind of…scattered." He glanced back at the road so he wouldn't have to see Brennan's eyes darken with memory; Booth still hadn't asked how she'd spent last Christmas, while he was off with Hannah, because he didn't think he wanted to know.

"But it's not like that this year." He disentangled his hand from Brennan's and rested his palm against her stomach. "Everything's better now. Everything's…perfect."

Brennan smiled in spite of herself.

"I want you to have a good Christmas again, Bones. And that means…everyone should be together. Our whole weird, unorthodox family."

"Maybe you're right…" Brennan said finally, one finger absently tracing the back of Booth's hand.

"Good," Booth said, relaxing. "Because I invited everyone over for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow."

Brennan's eyes snapped to his. "_Booth_."

He glanced at her, apologetic. "I know I should have told you, but…I wanted to wait until I thought you'd be happy about it." Brennan sighed, and Booth quickly added, "I already got everything we need to cook, and everybody's got food assignments." He smiled, hopeful. "Everybody's coming, Bones…the whole team, your dad, Russ' family, Pops…"

"And me!" Parker added from the back, tugging out his headphones. "Right, Dad?"

"Right." Booth took his eyes off the road again, looking at Brennan imploringly. "It could be really great, Bones."

Brennan was quiet for a moment. She could see the hope in Booth's eyes, and she understood that he was doing this for her.

But she also knew Christmas was important to Booth, and to Parker. So even though she wasn't sure if she was up for a big crowded dinner, Brennan smiled, first at Parker and then at Booth. "Sounds like it'll be fun. But…my apartment isn't decorated."

Booth caught his son's eye in the rearview mirror and grinned. "I think we can take care of that."

~(B*B)~

In less than twenty four hours, Booth and Parker had decked Brennan's apartment out in Christmas decorations, even moving the decorated tree from Booth's apartment to hers. Brennan had helped out as much as she could, but Booth stopped from her doing anything more strenuous than lifting an ornament.

Soon, the house was filled with the smell of food, the soft sound of Christmas music, and the chatter of most of the people they knew.

Booth had picked up Pops from his nursing home when the decorating was done. Angela, Hodgins and Michael had arrived soon after. Max showed up next, followed quickly by Cam, Paul and Michelle, then Sweets and Daisy, and finally Russ, Amy and their girls.

Between the fuss made over Michael and the endless questions about Brennan's pregnancy, baby talk dominated most conversation.

"Bones thinks she wants a home birth," Booth was telling Russ and Paul when Brennan slowed to a stop behind them. Booth caught her eye and smiled good naturedly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Can't just agree to the hospital like a normal person."

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "Booth, women have been giving birth at home for centuries. It's perfectly safe…hospitals are a breeding ground for infection, so there's actually a greater risk going there."

Heaving an exaggerated, long suffering sigh, Booth looked at Paul. "You do this for a living, Paul. Help me out here."

He smiled. "I have a lot of patients who start out with home birth plans. Most of them change their minds once that first contraction hits."

Brennan lifted her chin slightly, defiant. "I'm not worried. I've always had a high tolerance for pain."

"That is true," Russ put in, nodding in affirmation. "I once ran her bike off the sidewalk when we were racing…she was only five, busted her head open on the curb, but I was the only one crying."

"Exactly," Brennan agreed, giving her brother a grateful smile.

But then Russ continued, "Of course, you also never let me talk you into racing bikes again." He looked at the others, grinning as he explained, "It was hard enough getting her to do it in the first place. Tempe wasn't much for _playing_." He gave Brennan a pointed look. "You going to be able to change that when the kid comes along?"

Booth smiled a little, thinking of the Nerf guns stored in their closet. He started to joke that they'd been working on the playing thing, when Brennan shrugged out from under his arm, moving away from the group.

Brennan scanned the room quickly. Her dad was deep in conversation with Pops. Parker, Emma and Haley were stretched out on their stomachs playing cards in a corner. Michelle had apparently finally gotten a turn to hold Michael.

After a moment, Brennan spotted Angela in the kitchen, talking to Cam, and she started toward them. The living room was starting to feel crowded, and she felt an odd, irrational unease fluttering in her chest.

"Dr. Brennan!"

Brennan winced the moment Daisy's high pitched voice hit her, and she reluctantly stopped walking. "Hello, Ms. Wick."

Daisy, arm in arm with Sweets, beamed as they approached. "Thanks _so_ much for having me, Dr. Brennan," she gushed, smiling a little smugly. "It always means a lot that I'm the only intern invited."

"Well, Dr. Sweets is really the one we invite," Brennan informed her matter-of-factly. "We just don't protest if he brings you."

Sweets spluttered a little mid-sip of his drink, but Daisy's smile didn't falter. "And I'm _so_ glad he does. I was hoping we'd have the dinner last year, but Lancelot said no one was getting together."

Noticing the way Brennan's eyes hardened, Sweets hastily changed the subject. "The place looks really great, Dr. Brennan."

"Thank you…Booth and Parker did most of it," Brennan explained shortly.

Sweets grinned. "Is Parker getting excited about the baby?"

At that, Brennan did smile slightly, her eyes softening. "I believe so. He's always talking about what he's going to do when he's a big brother."

"He'll be good at it," Sweets commented, smiling. "Just over a month to go, right?"

Before Brennan could confirm this, Daisy enthusiastically informed her, "We brought a Christmas gift for the baby."

"The baby isn't born yet," Brennan reminded her mildly.

"It's really a gift for you and Booth," Sweets put in quickly. "It's just, you know…more for when the baby comes."

"It's so, so sweet," Daisy told her. "Lance and I went to the bookstore and he picked out all these picture books for you two to read to the baby."

"Daisy!" Sweets protested.

"Oh, it's not a big surprise, they'll be opening them soon anyway," Daisy said dismissively.

Brennan smiled at them, genuinely. "Thank you. Books are a very useful gift…infants won't be able to follow the story, of course, but they benefit from the inflection and intonation in the readers voice when telling stories…and of course any verbal interaction is helpful in speech and language development."

Pleased with himself, Sweets replied, "That's what I figured," he grinned, teasingly. "Plus I figure _someone_ should give you something besides anthropology journals."

Brennan's smile faltered, and she shook her head, tone dismissive and short, "Right."

Before the conversation could continue, Brennan turned away from them and continued toward the kitchen. As she got closer, she could hear them talking about Michael.

"…all he ever wants to do is throw the ball until we pick it up. Then he throws it again. He can do that for _hours_."

Cam smiled and replied, "Oh, adorable. It must be nice to be that easily amused, huh?"

"Oh, I know, I'm actually jealous of him sometimes…" Angela grinned then, and her next sentence stopped Brennan just as she was about to walk into the kitchen. "Of course, Bren keeps lecturing on keeping his schedule diverse…spatial reasoning and early pattern recognition." Even Brennan could hear the clear amusement in her best friends tone. "Apparently she'll be keeping a strict schedule of both with her daughter."

Laughing appreciatively, Cam shook her head, "Oh that poor kid."

"I know," Angela replied warmly as Brennan edged away from the door before they saw her.

Brennan's throat was tight, and her eyes roved the living room, instinctually looking for Booth.

He standing in front of the TV with Russ, Amy and Pops; the four of them were crowded so close the screen was obscured, but Brennan was pretty confident in the hypothesis that he was showing them the latest ultrasound DVD.

Deciding not to interrupt him, Brennan started to move as quickly as she could through the living room, suddenly seized with the need to get away from the crowd, just for a moment. She started toward her bedroom, determined not to stop for anyone.

"Bones?"

A small hand tugged on her sleeve; the hand of one of the few people she would stop for at the moment.

"Hey, Parker." Brennan forced a smile. "You having fun?"

"Yeah. Emma and Haley are cool. Only…" He lowered his voice and leaned close. "They still believe in Santa Clause."

Brennan immediately gave him a serious look. "Did you tell them the truth?"

"No," Parker assured her. "I pretended I believe in him, too, just like I do with Mom and Dad." He grinned, "And you're not gonna tell Dad, will you, Bones?"

Brennan nodded. "I promised I wouldn't."

"Awesome. Thanks, Bones." Shooting her a grin, Parker hurried back to his card game with the girls.

Before Brennan could continue to her room, Hodgins walked by, Michael balanced on his hip. "Hey, Dr. B." He glanced at his son, including Michael in the conversation as he and Angela always did. "Can you say hi to Aunt Bren, Michael?"

Michael couldn't say hi, of course, but he did begin babbling happily, reaching for her, his tiny hand landing on Brennan's stomach.

Hodgins laughed at that, "Saying hello to your future best friend, buddy?" Hodgins lifted his eyes to Brennan, grinning. "You know it's true."

"They will most likely be in close proximity to each other," Brennan agreed.

"Oh, yeah, they'll be pals," Hodgins said confidently. "We can swap off sometimes. You guys can take Michael for those dancing phalanges he loves so much, or…what is it? Early pattern recognition exercises." Brennan flinched slightly; Angela had just been joking about the same thing. Oblivious, Hodgins continued cheerfully, "And your girl can come visit us for…I don't know, finger painting or something."

"Yeah, maybe."

Michael's head was starting to droop against his father's shoulder, his eyes heavy and lidded. "Maybe have to put him down in the bedroom soon…" Hodgins glanced down at the infant, a soft smile on his face. "Falling to sleep early tonight, buddy…must be excited for Santa."

Brennan glanced at Hodgins. "So you two are dong that as well? Participating in the Santa myth?"

"Yeah, of course," Hodgins paused, looking up at her curiously. "You're not?"

"Of course she is," Max said smoothly, coming up behind them and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

Annoyance flared in Brennan's chest, and she narrowed her eyes at her dad. "No…I'm not. Just as I keep telling Booth…I don't believe in lying to children."

"Oh, c'mon Tempe, you aren't going to do that to your daughter, are you? Keeping _Santa_ from her." He shook his head, as if the whole idea was ludicrous. "_You_ believed in Santa when you were little, and you turned out just fine." Max smiled. "Your mom and I _loved_ playing Santa."

Brennan's eyes were closed, her chest constricted. For a long moment, she didn't speak.

In the next second, she was nearly yelling, voice trembling with anger, "Well, Dad, I imagine lying about Santa Clause was simple in comparison to lying about your entire identity and professions, but _I'm _planning on being _honest_ with _my_ daughter." Immediately the whole room fell silent, every eye snapping to Brennan and Max…except for Hodgins, who was awkwardly backing away. The pitch of her voice rising, Brennan continued, "And excuse me if I'm not using your parenting skills as a guide, but it was hardly the ideal method."

"Tempe…" Russ, across the room, began in a placating tone.

"As though you're any better," she snapped, pushing past her father and the other startled guests, slamming the door of the apartment behind her.

For a moment, everyone was still, the shock of Brennan's outburst freezing them. Then, Booth and Angela's gazes locked, concern etched in their expressions.

In the next second, Booth shook off the shock, and hurried out the apartment after Brennan.

~(B*B)~

"Bones, Bones, Bones…"

Brennan's back was to him, and she was hugging herself against the cold. She didn't turn at his voice.

"Bones, hey..." Bewildered, Booth tentatively touched a hand to her back, and immediately he could feel her shaking.

"I'm sorry, Booth."

Her voice, thick with tears, immediately made Booth's chest tighten.

"Hey…" He tugged her sleeve gently, and Brennan slowly turned to look at him. "What are you sorry for?"

"I…I know you arranged all of this for me, so I'd enjoy Christmas again, but I just..." Brennan's voice caught, and she closed her eyes against the tears stabbing her eyes. "…I just c-can't be in there right now."

"That's okay…" Booth's voice was soothing, but still tinged with confusion. He moved a little closer to Brennan, slipping his hand into hers and squeezing gently. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I just…I don't want to be in there," Brennan repeated, hating how inarticulate and childlike she sounded. In spite of her best efforts, a few tears slipped down her cheeks. "I just…I feel…Everyone thinks I'm going to be a bad mother."

"_What_?" Booth stared at her, wide eyed. "Bones, _no_ _one_ thinks that."

"Yes, they do," she retorted thickly. "No one thinks I'll be able to play with her, and they think the, the pattern recognition exercises are foolish, and just…" Her voice splintered. "No one thinks I can do this."

"Hey…_I_ do," Booth told her firmly, resting his hands on her arms. "I _know_ you can do this, Bones. I know you're gonna be _amazing_ at it."

Brennan stared at him, expression pained. "_Do_ you? Because…it doesn't seem like it."

Booth's stomach clenched, as effectively as if he'd just been punched in the gut. "What…what do mean?"

Brennan shook her head, ducking her head to avoid his eyes. "You're always…you're always saying things, Booth. Like…_you're not going to talk to the baby like that, are you? _And you think it's…abnormal that I want a home birth, or that I'm putting her in danger. You accuse me of wanting to deprive our daughter of something simply because I don't want to lie to her…" Brennan was crying in earnest by the point, and Booth felt dizzy with panic.

"Bones, hey, look at me…" He touched her under the chin, making Brennan look at him. "I never meant…I _know_ how much you're going to love our daughter, that'd you never put her in danger." Brennan just looked away again, still crying. Desperate, Booth attempted a reasoning tone, "Bones, you're stressed, and you're hormonal…"

"_No_," Brennan clenched out. She pulled away from Booth, anger slipping into her voice. "It's not hormones, Booth! That's not what this is…I just…I know this wasn't your first choice, that…." Brennan's face crumpled, voice catching. "…_I _wasn't your first choice."

For a moment, these words seemed to hover between them, and Booth felt sick. "What…what are you talking about?"

"If Hannah hadn't said no to your proposal …you'd be married to her. Maybe _she'd_ be pregnant with your progeny by now. She was the one who turned you down, so…if it had been up to you, you'd be with Hannah."

For a moment, Booth was speechless, the shock of Brennan finally bringing up the unspeakable stealing his words.

Finally, though, he managed to choke out roughly, "Bones, how can you _say_ that? It's ridiculous."

"No, it isn't, it's based on the logical progression of events," Brennan insisted thickly. "You would be with _her_, and you probably…you probably think she'd be a better mom, that she would want to play Santa Clause, and talk baby talk and know how to play with toys and just be _normal_..."

Brennan sucked her lower lip between her teeth, falling silent before she broke down completely. Hormones weren't responsible for these feelings, but it was possible they were responsible for her lack of discretion; for months, she'd been swallowing insecurities and the knowledge that, if Booth had his way when he proposed, they wouldn't be together.

For a long time, Booth simply stared at Brennan. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes swirling with equal parts hurt and anger and fear. Reflexively, hot, painful tears threatened Booth, the ache in Brennan's voice shooting straight to his heart.

"Bones…" When he could speak again, his voice was a rough, quaking mess. "Bones, I…I love you. I love you so much, please…please tell me you don't really believe any of that."

"I love you, too," Brennan whispered, but then she fell silent, not assuring him that her accusations were unfounded.

With a jolt, Booth realized that she was still moving away from him. "What…where are you going?"

"I'm sorry." Brennan swept the sleeve of her shirt under her eyes. "I'm sorry to ruin dinner, Booth, I just…I just need to be by myself for a little while…"

Immediately, fear choked Booth, his protests tripping over each other. "You can't just say something that and go, Bones, we need to talk about this…"

"Not now," she was almost begging. "I need to drive, I just…I need a break. You should go eat with everyone, I'll…I'll be back by the time they all leave." She couldn't leave him without that reassurance.

"Bones, you're upset, you shouldn't…"

"I'm sorry…" Then she turned her back on him completely, leaving Booth rooted in place as she moved toward her car, away from him, away from their Christmas.


	3. Christmas and Me Are Through

_A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on this…I hate that I didn't finish before Christmas. But that computer virus I mentioned really messed up my schedule, and I had some family related emergencies that made Christmas and the last few days more hectic than usual. But now things are back on track, and I'll be finishing this up within the next day or two._

_This was originally going to be a three chapter fic, but I decided to break the last chapter up into two parts…hence this one being a little shorter. Lyrics/song by Your Vegas._

Chapter Three

_Home is where the heart is_  
><em>The end is where the start is<em>  
><em>Have a happy holiday<em>  
><em>Remember, boy, to smile when you frown<em>  
><em>Out by the old church<em>  
><em>I can hear them sing<em>  
><em>Long live the king<em>

_Oh, Santa Claus, Santa Claus_  
><em>There's no Christmas here anymore<em>  
><em>Put the bells away<em>  
><em>Burn the sleigh<em>  
><em>Throw the presents out of my door<em>  
><em>'Cos she's gone, gone<em>  
><em>Everything they said was true<em>  
><em>Christmas and me are through<em>

Booth couldn't seem to move. His instincts were screaming at him to go after Brennan, but shame and panic paralyzed him.

This was his fault. His fault for everything that happened last year, and his fault for letting the subject remain untouched.

He'd never tried to apologize, or explain. Never even tried to make it okay.

It wasn't that Booth didn't think it had bothered her. He knew all too well how he'd treated Brennan. He knew what Brennan had told him, that rainy night in his car, had been so huge for her, and he knew how much it must have hurt her. Even now, he couldn't think of that night without feeling nauseous.

Something had happened to him. He'd gotten lost for awhile. That was the only explanation Booth could come up with for why he'd dropped Brennan off at her house after she broke down crying in his car, not following her in or even so much as calling Angela to check on her. He'd been trying so hard to bury the part of him that was in love with her that he'd inadvertently lost the ability to even be a decent friend.

It sickened him, the way he'd treated Brennan all those months, after years of trying to be one person who never hurt her. Clarity had dawned long before they got together, early enough for him to feel ashamed at the way she was trying so hard to take care of him after Hannah left.

Foolishly, Booth thought he could make up for it merely by action. He'd made sure Brennan knew he loved her, that she knew how long he'd wanted this, how happy it made him.

His mistake had been believing the present could erase the past.

Brennan's words, her tearful admission that she believed herself his second choice, had startled him. But the more Booth thought about it, the more he cursed himself for not seeing this coming, and not trying to stop it.

Booth stood outside until the cold hit him, and he dimly remembered the others, waiting upstairs.

~(B*B)~

The road was blurred in front of Brennan the whole ride to the Jeffersonian.

She hated this. Hated crying, and hated the hormones for stealing her ability to control it.

There was no logical reason for why she chose that moment to break down, why Christmas dinner and a few typical comments from her friends had provoked her to say that to Booth after promising herself she'd never bring it up.

So Brennan pulled angrily into her parking space at the lab, cursing herself for being irrational.

She had thought through everything that had happened between her and Booth, everything that had led to them being together. She knew the conditions that had made Booth want to be with her, and she had accepted that there was no changing them.

So there was no use in this behavior.

She felt oddly panicked; that was why she'd come to the lab. There was no place that made Brennan feel more competent, more controlled.

"Hey, doc."

Brennan turned, blinking in surprise.

Micah was smiling at her, his eyes going slightly wide when he took in her stomach. "Guess it's been awhile, doc."

Recovering from the surprise of his presence, Brennan touched a hand automatically to her stomach. "Yes…it's important to a developing fetus that the mother gets enough rest, so Booth hasn't really allowed me to work too late." She paused, awkward. "I didn't expect you to be working on Christmas Eve."

"I'm just doing a last walk through," Micah explained. "Besides, don't anyone waiting at home…but you do." He eyed her, taking in the tears drying on Brennan's face. His face softening, Micah asked, "Everything okay?"

Brennan looked away. She started toward her office, knowing Micah would follow. "I just don't particularly enjoy Christmas dinners," Brennan stated, struggling to keep her voice steady. "My apartment felt a bit crowded, and I had some work I'd been neglecting…"

They reached her office, and Brennan settled behind her desk. Micah leaned in the doorway, quiet for a bit, watching her go through papers.

"Doc," he pointed out gently. "Your hands are shaking."

Sighing, Brennan put the papers down. For some reason, she rarely tried to hide things from Micah. But for her own sake, she couldn't rehash the details of what had just happened.

"There was a fight…" Brennan admitted quietly, her eyes on her files. "I'm not sure if it qualifies as a fight, but…I got angry. At almost everyone. Perhaps irrationally. But in any case, I just couldn't…" Her eyes filled, again. "I couldn't be there."

Micah shoved his hand in his pocket, shrugging in his quiet, unassuming way. "You know, doc, I don't know much. And the Jeffersonian isn't exactly hosting lectures on this subject." He paused, half smiling. "But seems to me that families are _supposed_ to annoy you sometimes, get under your skin. Sometimes they're hard to be with…but it also seems like you have a lot of people who love you crowding your apartment. And annoying or not….Christmas is about being with family." He smiled a little. "Whatever that means."

Brennan's throat tightened, her father's own words from years ago echoing in her head, _Being alone at Christmas means nobody loves you_.

Those words had been in her head all last Christmas. This year, she didn't have to be alone. She'd _chosen_ to leave.

Brennan wished she hadn't said anything about Hannah and proposals and second choices to Booth, but the fact remained that she had. So she had to talk to him, to reassure Booth that she didn't hold anything against him, that she had always understood the irreversible facts.

"Thanks, Micah."

Shooting the security guard a shaky smile, Brennan stood up and pulled on the coat she'd just discarded.

She needed to go home.

~(B*B)~

The mood inside the apartment was tense when Booth reentered. The brightness of the Christmas decorations seemed vaguely obscene among the somber quiet.

Every pair of eyes snapped to Booth when he entered, taking in Brennan's absence, searching his face for explanations.

Booth found himself at a loss.

"Dad?" Parker's voice, small and uncertain, was the first to cut through the quiet. "Where's Bones?"

Booth forced himself to smile at his son, but he addressed his answer to everyone. "Bones…took off, for a little while." His voice sounded odd to his own ears, but Booth couldn't bring himself to lie. "She just…needed a little break."

Max sighed a little, troubled. "I…don't know what got into her did…did I do something?"

Booth closed his eyes briefly, swallowing an instinctual anger. He had no right that. "Yeah." He opened his eyes, gaze sweeping the crowd. "We all did."

The others exchanged bewildered glances, and Booth started to push through them, heading for the bedroom. He paused in the hallway, swiveling around. "You…you all should go ahead and eat dinner. I…Sorry."

He didn't wait for questions or protests, just stepped inside the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Booth sat down, hard, on the edge of the bed, his whole body sagging. He pulled out his cell phone, calling Brennan even though he didn't really expect her to answer.

Soon, there was a knock on his door, and immediately after the door swung open.

For a long moment, he and Angela just looked at each other. Then, she slowly closed to door behind her. "What happened?"

"I…I don't know," Booth whispered, half truthfully. "She just…she was so upset, Angela."

Angela's eyes darkened. "About what? I mean…" She was thinking about what Booth had just said, out in the living room. "What did we all do?"

Booth lowered his eyes. It took him awhile to answer, to admit, "It was me more than anyone." He ran a hand over his face. "She…she said no one thinks she can do this." At Angela's questioning look, he clarified, "Be a good mom."

Immediately, Angela's face fell into sympathy. "Oh, God…" She exhaled slowly. "_Why_ does she think that?"

Booth shrugged listlessly. He knew what he'd said, dozens of casual, throwaway comments or jokes he hadn't meant anything by but, in retrospect, would have slowly driven Brennan to doubt. Rather than explain it to Angela, he simply looked away, calling Brennan's phone yet again.

Only when he heard her voicemail, again, did Booth glance up; he could see it on Angela's face, the way she was remembering similar moments. Her distress evident, Angela met his eyes. "What did she say?"

Booth shook his head slightly. "Just….that everyone says things…" He lost the words to explain it; from Angela's expression, they weren't necessary. Then, hesitantly, Booth admitted, "I think the real problem is…me."

Angela stared at him for a long time, taking in the pained expression on his face.

She sat down beside him on the edge of the bed, waiting. "Why?"

It hurt to even say the words. "She…she thinks she's my second choice."

Unlike Booth, Angela seemed unsurprised by this information. Instead, she exhaled slowly, understanding settling on her face.

She fixed him with an exasperated expression, "You two have _really_ never talked about any of that?"

Booth knew what she meant. "No," he confessed, the word soft and hollow.

"Oh, Booth…"

"She just…she never got mad…" His voice was shaking.

"No, she was never mad at you. It wasn't that," Angela told him quietly.

They were quiet, then, the air thick with what neither was saying. Absently, Booth called Brennan again, listening to the empty dial tone.

Finally, Angela broke the silence, "So how come you aren't going after her and finally explaining why she's wrong?"

Booth's stomach clenched. "I…I don't know, I just…I feel so stupid, Ange." His voice caught, and Booth pressed his lips together. "She was talking, last week, about…about last Christmas, that it wasn't a good one." Guilt flickered briefly in Angela's eyes, answering Booth's question about the rest of the team getting together without him. "And I just thought if I could make this year really special…but I never put it together. What was really bothering her, I still never…"

"It was sweet," Angela told him gently. "This was something you two should have talked about a long time ago, probably…but she couldn't bring it up and you didn't want to. But it's only coming out now because of what _all_ of us are making her feel."

Angela touched Booth's shoulder. "You talk to her. Then we will, too."

Booth nodded hard. He staggered to his feet, about to go after her, when the phone rang, Brennan's name flashing across the screen.

Relief coursed through him instantly, and Booth lifted the phone to his ear, voice weak as he answered, "Bones, hey, listen I-"

Angela glanced up, and she saw the moment Booth's face changed into an expression of utter incomprehension. He was quiet for a long beat, listening. His face twisted.

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

~(B*B)~

Someone else ran a red light.

They were speeding, no headlights on. Maybe drunk, coming home from a Christmas Eve party. Brennan had been in a hurry, but she hadn't been speeding, had merely driven through a green light as she was supposed to.

She woke up as the paramedics were removing her from her car, strapping her onto a stretcher. For a moment, pain and confusion overwhelmed her senses. She saw no faces, just flashing lights and blurs of movements. Under the distant sirens there were questions and directives being slung at her.

_Can you tell me your name?_

_Do you know how you were injured?_

_Stay really still for me…_

_How far along is your pregnancy?_

At that, panic knifed through Brennan, her hands, blood stained, leapt to her stomach, as though she could feel the extent of the damage.

"Temperance Brennan," she stammered in response to the repeated name question. "I…I need to c-call Booth, I have…I have to call him…"

"Someone will call him," the younger, female paramedic soothed her. "You just lay still, you're doing great…"

Then everything slipped away.

~(B*B)~

When the piercing ring of a cell phone cut over the sirens of the ambulance, Anna Deacon, two months into her job as a paramedic, began searching the pregnant woman's pocket for the phone.

She found it in her coat pocket, but was too late to answer the call.

_3 Missed Calls: Booth_ was flashing across the screen.

"Booth…" she said aloud. "Was that the name she was asking for earlier?"

"Yeah, I think so…." Daniel answered distractedly. "Answer it, could be the father…"

Anna quickly dialed again, listening to the dial tone with the dread that came from giving bad news.

~(B*B)~

_A/N: So. That happened again. Is it lame that perhaps I've had Brennan in a car accident two fics in a row? Perhaps. Will I keep putting her in danger until the show does it (and, let's face it, probably after)? Yes. Also this is fulfilling my own personal dream scenario of angsty pregnancy accident so…yeah. It's happening._

_Also, since I never mentioned earlier, Jen's Secret Santa prompt requirements were: "Huge fight" and "Things Never Said". More of the latter, at least, when we return._


End file.
